


Contes from Conduit Street

by LysanderandHermia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Frottage, Handcuffs, Jim's fucked up, M/M, Power Dynamics, Sebastian has a brother, Sexual Coercion, Sibling Incest, Smut, sort of, we all knew that though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LysanderandHermia/pseuds/LysanderandHermia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales from the home of Moriarty. All going well they'll be set in the same verse, but if not, this'll get updated. Mostly drabbles. Request whatever you like!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiffany's

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for bunnybrook, over on Tumblr. <3

_[Text to: Jim] Are we still on for movie night tonight? -RB_   
  
_[Text to: Rich] Haven't I told you to fuck off enough yet? -JM_

_[Text to: Jim] Right. Okay. -RB_  
  
Jim eyed the two word text with a scowl and a raised eyebrow, before stuffing the phone away and turning around back to his computer, where he was holding a conference with a few people from a Russian cartel organization. They wanted to take out the leader of their operation, but didn't know how to go about seizing all of his affairs and contacts first - hence, why Jim was being hired.   
  
Hours later, frustrated and in a sour mood, Jim climbed out of his hired car and took a kick at it with his leg, sending the driver burning rubber to get away from Jim's ire, and leaving Jim with a sore foot. Grumbling, he headed into the flat, and was assaulted by two things, both of which, he had to admit, were nice.  
  
First, silence. No Richard to speak of, bouncing over for his attention or whining about him being mean. No music playing or movie rolling, trying to tempt him or guilt him into joining his brother. Nothing at all. It was nice. And second, was the smell of brownies, unmistakeable. Richard had been cooking, and recently.   
  
Wondering if his bad mood were about to get worse to see the state of the kitchen, Jim stepped in to find that no, there was no mess. The oven was already self cleaning itself, and the dishes and ingredients had all been carefully placed back away. The only evidence left was the smell and the sight of several dozen, perfectly baked brownies - Jim's favorite. He picked one up - still warm - and munched it, eyes traveling around the room, until he refocused back on the brownies, and on the note tucked underneath them.  
  
 _These are for both of us, but have as many as you want. I'm in my room watching some movies on my laptop so I don't bother you, but feel free to join me if you change your mind. We can do movie night together a different day._  
 _~Richard_  
  
Humming to himself, Jim helped himself to a few more brownies, and then went into his room to change into slightly more comfortable clothes, and then settled down to do some paperwork. Several hours later, Jim was in a better mood, humming a tune, now, and still hadn't been bothered by anything at all. He'd had some tea, gotten himself some more brownies - he noticed Richard had at some point come out and snatched up a few - and was now back on track and caught up on his work. Still no sign of bothersome Richard, and still no whining or muffled crying or moving about or noise. Just blissful silence.   
  
Recharged from that, he finally decided to call it a night, and went down the hall to Richard's room, tapping on the door after a moment, but pushing into the room without waiting for a response. Richard, his twin, glanced up from his computer monitor, which was set next to him, and pulled out his earphones slowly, rolling onto his back and smiling a bit at Jim. "Hi," he greeted, voice low, still mindful, for some reason, of being quiet.   
  
"The brownies were delicious," Jim said by way of greeting, inviting himself into the bed, snuggling up and pulling the sheets up high. Richard smiled, and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his brother's cheek.   
  
"I hoped you'd show up. I just started Breakfast at Tiffany's," he said, half lifting the laptop in a sort of question. Jim nodded, making room, and soon enough they had the DVD backed up, the laptop balanced on their thighs, and were cuddled up close together.  
  
Jim waited until they were a few minutes into the movie, before speaking up, mumbling into Richard's hair. "If it had been a Breakfast at Tiffany's sort of night for you, you could have just said, Bunny," he told him.  
  
Richard shifted a bit, and sighed. "I know, but you needed space, so I figured I'd just bake brownies for us instead and try to cheer up a different way. It mostly worked, and, well, you were here when I was really starting to need you."  
  
He didn't thank Richard, or say anything at all in response, didn't tell the man he occasionally worried about him in a way that he didn't worry about anyone else. He didn't tell Richard it would be alright, or tell him he'd do better next time. Instead, he simply squeezed Richard closer for half a second, and Richard knew his brother well enough to know what it meant.  
  
 _I'll always be here when you really need me._


	2. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim needs taking down a peg. He has a man for the job. Sebastian's more than happy to comply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the more fucked up things I've ever written.   
> Special thanks to darling Anna for betaing, and to lovely Ari for unknowingly helping me getting a better grasp of writing Jim. I hope it's alright.
> 
> For sureimsherlock who gave me the following prompt: "Might I request a D/s Mormor AU, sub!Jim? Or if that's a bit much, maybe just some gentle bondage. Cause you know they're into that. Thanks! SH"

Jim was a dominant person. He dominated everything. The conversation, a meeting, his insubordinates' lives. Jim was in control. He was always in control.

Except, on the few occasions, when he got tired of that, when he decided that a brief change would be nice. He'd leave his expensive flat on Conduit Street, and have a car drive him over to the grittier part of London, looking out of place on the grimy streets in his fine Italian suit when the car drove off. 

He would walk up the two flights of stairs slowly, contemplatively, settling into his thoughts and getting used to the idea that tonight, he would have no control. To appreciate all the control he always had, he had to be at the other end of the leash at times. 

Stopping in front of the ordinary door to the ordinary flat in the worst and dullest part of town, he rapped on the door, before stepping inside. He could hear the shower running from the master bathroom off the hall, and prowled through the flat, taking in information about the man he was about to see. 

Bored out of his mind - the new knife marks in the wall were a plenty; hadn't had a job in a few weeks - his gun case, while unobtrusive and disguised well, but known by Jim what it was despite that, was sitting in the corner, maintained, but obviously disused. Jim tipped his head slightly, eying the rest of the room, before taking off his shoes, and hanging up his jacket, setting them back by the door.

After that, he knew what he was supposed to do, and waited, standing against the door, relaxed and gazing into the middle distance. When the man rounded the corner, taking in the sight of Jim standing there, they both grinned.

"Master Moran," Jim said smoothly, inclining his head, staring straight at Sebastian Moran. 

The tall, burly blonde grinned darkly, stepping forwards to cup Jim's chin tightly, twisting the man's head this way and that, sizing up the man, making observations of his own. "Moriarty," he breathed, finally, and that was it. Control was Sebastian Moran's now, and Jim wasn't James Moriarty, or Jim, he was simply /Sebastian's/. 

Sebastian stepped back. Jim's gaze dropped like a weight to the floor. Smiling firmly, Sebastian snapped his fingers, and turned to head for his room. Jim's knees hit the floor with a crack, and with only the slightest look of irritation, followed Sebastian on all fours to the man's bed, where he knelt up next to it. 

The other man was completely ignoring him, having dropped his towel and slipped into comfortable pajama bottoms. Jim waited, growing angry when Sebastian continued to putter around, ignoring his presence. 

Finally, he spoke up. "I came all the way over here from Soho, you realize," he grumbled, instantly regretting it. Sebastian was in front of him in a second, grabbing Jim by his hair and yanking his head back, glaring down at him. Jim winced and reached up without thinking to pull at Sebastian's firm grip, eyes still cautiously averted. 

"Hands. Behind. Your. Back." Sebastian snarled, face an inch from Jim's, eyes livid. Jim glared at the bed for a moment, before letting his hands fall away, lacing his fingers together behind his back. Sebastian didn't reward the behavior, instead, pulling Jim's hair until his throat was exposed, neck bent painfully backwards. He nipped sharply at Jim's adam's apple, before stepping away again, letting go of Jim's head with a sharp: "Stay."

And Jim stayed. He kept his head tipped far back, uncomfortable with the exposure, but understanding that he'd gotten off lightly. Sebastian returned to rummaging in his dresser, and pulled out a thick collar. Returning, he fastened it around Jim's neck, the dark material covering most of the space between his shoulders and his jaw. Jim tested the limits and found he couldn't move his head to look down, and sighed. Sebastian smiled, before stepping back. "Strip."

Clothes off, things progressed faster after that. Sebastian had Jim crawl to the living room, his way impeded by the collar, only able to look down at the floor as he crawled, or half rise up onto his knees to look ahead. Sebastian took his seat in a shitty but comfortable chair, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from the pocket.

Jim paused to eye the cuffs, confused, and Sebastian only raised his eyebrows, leaning forwards and latching one around Jim's wrist, guiding it back behind his back. The movement brought Jim and Sebastian's faces close, and the blonde smiled, tipping his head slightly in an invitation for a kiss, even as he ratcheted the other cuff to Jim's arm, leaving him defenseless. And Jim, position that he was in, fell for the bait, leaning forwards to close their lips, eyes sliding closed, thinking he was getting a kiss for being good. 

Sebastian spat over the side of Jim's face instead, and leaned back, looking disappointed. Jim swallowed, hardly twitching, and simply stared at Sebastian's knees, unable to wipe the saliva off of his face.

"You need this," Sebastian reminded him, after a minute, gesturing for Jim to come closer, and the man slowly shuffled to kneel between his legs. "You need to be reminded that you're human." He brushed his fingers over one of Jim's eyebrows, before it slid back into the man's hair, tugging him further forwards. Jim followed until he was starting to lean over the chair, about to have to either settle against Sebastian's lap, or overbalance.

This was unfamiliar territory. Sure, Jim came over and Sebastian used him, in many different ways - as furniture, as a blanket on one occasion, as a means of practicing new branding techniques (that didn't last long - Jim didn't like it, and it was the one time he'd ever used his safe word - but he still sported a burn scar in the shape of a carefully crafted 'SM' to the left of his navel), mostly for humiliating and being made to clean up after the sniper. But Sebastian had never made it about anything sexual, not beyond a dominating bite or a satisfied kiss. It had been an unspoken thing. Or so Jim had thought. Part of his mind filed the information away for later. Sebastian was cunning. Or changeable.

Jim's eyes slid to Sebastian's chin, questioning, his arms shifting behind himself, obviously uncomfortable with the situation, but when Sebastian tugged his head forwards to rest against his crotch, Jim didn't protest and Sebastian didn't contest his hesitancy. The man had a safe word. He knew how to use it. He'd been reminded of it, as always, when Jim was stripping.

Sebastian smoothed his fingers through Jim's hair, satisfied, and slouched a bit further. Jim's forehead was against his navel, and honestly, it felt /good/ to have such a man of power there, between his legs. He'd bided his time. Pretended that he still didn't know what Jim did, that he believed the simple lie Jim had told him when their relationship had started up - that he was a leader of the biggest drug syndicate in London (honestly, it wasn't actually a lie, just a very large omitting of the truth) - and he'd waited for a good while before broaching this particular area. They knew each other better, Sebastian knew Jim's limits better - though Jim liked to say that he didn't have any. The ex-Colonel knew better.

The criminal mastermind waited, not daring to try and move but tense. He hated waiting. Eventually, he became aware that he was breathing hot air over Sebastian's thin pajama pants and that it was starting to stir something in the man. That, or, well, he supposed it was rather sexually arousing to see someone pressed against your groin. "Look at me." The command came out of the blue, minutes later, after Sebastian had turned on the telly, back to ignoring Jim, or so he'd thought. 

Slowly, Jim dragged his gaze up to Sebastian, deciding on the likelihood of getting spat on again, but Sebastian only shifted, something dark flashing across his eyes, a look that plainly said 'I want you'. Jim felt worry grow in his stomach, and he felt it against where his cheek rested against Sebastian's groin, confirmed a moment later when Sebastian shifted, his erection noticeable. Jim wasn't stupid. He was smart, and he knew what was about to be told of him, and he didn't like it. Not enough to refuse, though. 

"Pull my pants down," Sebastian said after a moment or two, raising an eyebrow as Jim frowned, looking down Sebastian's chest and then at the clothing, shifting his arms, as if to say 'my hands are bound, idiot'. Sebastian patted him firmly on the cheek. "Go on. Now."

Awkwardly, and face burning now with shame, Jim struggled to pull Sebastian's now fully erect penis free of his pants, tugging at the waistband with his teeth until Sebastian was exposed. The blonde threaded his hair, humming his approval, and shifted his hips. He didn't have to explain, but he did anyways. 

"I want you to suck me off."

Jim didn't even think about it. He shook his head. "No."

It earned him a painful grip in his hair again, and Sebastian smacked him hard, leaving Jim gasping for breath. His face stung, and his eyes were wide, shock evident on his face. "I said, I want you to suck me off." Gripping Jim by his collar, he pulled him forwards again, pressing Jim's face to his dick while the man struggled slightly, arms twisting in his restraints. Jim didn't want to. He didn't. But he couldn't bring himself to say his safe word, either. It was a battle of his pride and ego.

He opened his mouth to protest, and Sebastian took the opportunity to angle Jim's head and his own hips to push himself into Jim's mouth. The man spluttered and tried to pull away, mouth closing automatically. Luckily, Sebastian didn't mind the mild bite, but he pulled Jim off regardless and gave him a firm shake, leaning down to snarl in his face. "Don't do that again. Now. /Behave/." 

Licking his lips hesitantly, Jim kept his eyes shut, and nodded once. Sebastian waited a moment, before pulling Jim's head back to his prick, fingers pressing at the back of his neck. Jim stared at it. He'd never performed fellatio before, and didn't know what to expect. It was going to happen whether he liked it or not, though, and that was something. He felt calmer. That was good, right?

Leaning forwards, he opened his mouth and put as much of it as he could in his mouth, and then sucked hard, trying to get used to the weight on his tongue. Sebastian yanked on his hair again, obviously irritated, and Jim went slack jawed automatically. He was grateful after the fact to have been able to fully submit like this, whenever he came over to Moran's, but he didn't like it in the moment very much, and he didn't particularly enjoy having his hair pulled out by overzealous Neanderthals. 

Sebastian seemed to appreciate the fact that Jim had relaxed his jaw, because he sighed again, and nudged Jim's head back and forth slightly. "Mouth open, idiot. Rub it with your tongue. Suck on the tip when you pull mostly off." With a bit of guidance from Sebastian, Jim managed not to do a terribly bad job, judging from the less frequent smacks he got and the heavy breathing on Sebastian's part. 

His jaw ached, and Sebastian tasted salty, and it made him squeamish just /thinking/ about what he was doing, but he didn't stop, couldn't stop, or Sebastian would be mad. And that wasn't good at all. Not in this situation. Occasionally, his arms twitched from where they were locked behind his back, trying to move to get into a more comfortable position, and stopping when the cuffs reminded him he couldn't.

The sniper, on the other hand, had been doing his best to keep his pleasure under control, biting his tongue to keep mostly quiet, eyes locked onto Jim, watching the man bob between his legs, struggling to learn on the job, as it were. He was getting close. His other hand slowly slid into Jim's hair, the other man not seeming to take notice, started his own rhythm by lifting his hips and pulling Jim's head down on him, slow at first but rapidly building until he was grunting roughly and fucking Jim's mouth like that was its only purpose. 

Jim was spluttering, choking slightly every time Sebastian nudged the back of his throat, struggling slightly. He remembered not to shut his mouth, and simply went with it as best he could, keeping his jaw locked open. He still squirmed, but when Sebastian brought his hand across his face again, pulling Jim off for a moment, it made him still. Completely lax in Sebastian's hands, he let the man guide him back onto the man's prick, eyes glazing over as he concentrated on ignoring the burning feeling in his throat and resisting the growing urge to throw up. That would be horrible.

Sebastian watched, eyes alight as Jim finally submitted and let it happen. Guiding Jim's head with his own hands, Sebastian shoved in, roughly using Jim, pushing into Jim's throat and pressing the man's nose against his skin every time he thrust up. It took ten more seconds for him to come, burying himself in Jim's mouth as he did, curling an arm around the back of the man's head firmly and holding Jim tight against his hips. Sebastian's mouth hung open as he rode it out, simply repeating on autopilot, "Swallow, swallow, take it, take it…"

When he came out of it a moment or two later, he realized that Jim was legitimately choking, and he pulled out, gripping the man's chin and the back of his head, waiting and watching, ready to help if he needed to. A moment later, the man got a clean breath of air, and Sebastian watched his eyes, noted the blankness there. Jim was deep, deep down. Completely out of it now. With a satisfied sigh, Sebastian released him to slump back, fixed himself up, and then joined Jim on the floor, sliding off of his chair to sit in front of Jim.

He pulled Jim up and into his lap, one hand unlocking the cuffs with the key he rummaged briefly for, and brought his raw wrists to his mouth, giving each a soft kiss. "Good boy, Jim. Very good. You made your Sebastian proud, very proud. Come on, calm down. You're okay." He cradled the man, fingers smoothing through the man's hair gently, eyes on Jim's face as he relaxed back, murmuring quiet things to the man, a stark contrast to the way he'd acted up to this point. 

The man glanced up after a minute to stare at Sebastian's chin again, and the sniper nodded. "You can look at me again, Jim. It's over. We're done for tonight. You did so well, so good." He smoothed his hand down Jim's chest, a firm pressure, comforting. Jim's mouth twitched into a small smile, looking tired. "You okay?"

Jim seemed to consider, slowly pulling himself out of his daze. "Don't think I particularly liked it, but yes. I'm alright. Tired."

Sebastian lifted a shoulder, because it didn't really matter if Jim didn't like it (as long as he didn't inact his safe word, anything went), but he made a mental note anyways. Maybe next time, he'd show Jim just how nice it could be. Sebastian knew how to give blow jobs. "Tired? Why don't you sleep here and go home in the morning, then?" Jim didn't respond very much, still out of it, so Sebastian stood, and scooped the smaller man up. Taking him to his bedroom and cleaning him up, Sebastian removed the collar last, and only then, did Jim relax fully, sagging into the pillows the second the covers were pulled up to his chin.

Sebastian watched him for a long moment, before leaning down and giving him a soft kiss, smiling, and crawled in after him, curling his arms around the man, stroking gently across his arms. Jim was the most dangerous man in London. Possibly all of Great Britain. Feared by everyone he crossed paths with.

All except for one.


	3. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian gets a surprise visit in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for onceuponanautismdisorder, over on Tumblr. <3 You may also know her as ask-damaged-jim, but however you know her, Ermerler is the best.
> 
> I really like the idea of Seb having a brother from time to time even though it's not canon, and being a twin is awesome and all but an identical twin named Severin just isn't something I can get into. So, here. Have Ross instead. 8D
> 
> Thanks again to lovely Anna for being an awesomesauce beta. Now I'll shut up and you can read your smut.

Sebastian got anonymous phone calls all the time. It happened with ridiculous consistency, to be completely honest. People calling in favors (there were less and less of those every week, however, for Sebastian didn't like owing debts), and hiring him out, calling to have 'talks', calling to arrange similar appointments that the darling James Moriarty currently made with him, and for many, many other reasons. Sebastian had no qualms about any of them, handling them with ease, continually abrupt and gruff as he always was. No one fucked with him, unless they were utterly stupid.   
  
He was still half asleep when his phone rang, having finally passed out on his bed a few short hours ago, kept up by a heated discussion with a man he owed. By the time he'd answered, he was wide awake, his voice even and smooth. "Moran. Go."   
  
There was crackling silence on the other end, before muffled laughter trickled into his ear. Sebastian's eyes narrowed and he pulled himself out of his bed, pacing across to his window and back. The laugh sounded familiar. "Who is this?" Again, more laughter, but louder this time, and…  
  
It was coming from inside his house. Sebastian stilled, listening again, and heard a distinct creak of floorboards from his living room. Whoever it was wasn't making much of an effort to remain anonymous for long. Apparently they also had a death wish. Sebastian was more than happy to carry such a request out, and pulled his Sig from under his pillow, the safety off and magazine checked. "Who is this?" He repeated, once more, silently moving through his flat, eyes on the dark corners, phone between his ear and shoulder, both hands on the gun. There was no response again, just the line going dead.  
  
Sebastian stepped around the corner at the same time, and brought his gun up with the back of a man's head, who was facing away from him, and sitting in his chair. He wondered if Jim had sent him. Maybe he'd decided he didn't want a repeat performance from the other day and was trying to kill Sebastian off instead of simply saying so. Or, you know, using his fucking safe word.   
  
"Were you sent by someone? What are you doing here?" The man finally turned around, slowly, eying the gun lazily before his eyes shifted to Sebastian's, a shit eating grin growing across his face. Sebastian lowered the gun, flicking the safety on again and set it on the table next to him, along with his phone a moment later. "Christ. I got a letter a year ago from Augustus saying you'd gotten life in prison for your drug dealing sting, Ross. How're you out already?"  
  
Ross' grin only widened, and he raised an eyebrow, lacing his nicotine stained fingers behind his head, relaxing back. "Mm, yes, interesting, that. They convicted me of being the head of a drug ring, yes, but the wrong one. Silly them." He chuckled, and sat forwards again, getting up and moving around to stand in front of his twin. "They couldn't do shit when they realized they'd messed up. None of their evidence stacked up anymore. Now I'm lying low, just to be on the safe side. Working at a bookstore, believe it or not."  
  
It was very odd, standing in front of his brother again, Sebastian decided, sizing the man up, shifting to lean against his bookshelf in front of the man. They were twins, but not identical, though, they had many of the same features. Ross' eyes were brown like mud, where Sebastian's were blue. They had the same nose and smile, and the same bone structure. Sebastian had a very very mild smattering of freckles, and fairer hair than Ross', who was keeping it longer than Sebastian generally preferred his to be. They were the same height, and where Sebastian had scars, Ross had tattoos.   
  
"Doesn't matter whether I believe it or not, Ross. What are you even doing here?" He ran his fingers through his short hair and moved for the kitchen, cracking his neck. "You freaked me out."  
  
Ross followed Sebastian into the kitchen, levering himself out of the chair and picking up a book on the table, flipping through it idly as Sebastian poured himself a glass of water. "Your door isn't exactly break-in proof, you know. Your fault." Sebastian shot him a glare, and he continued, "I'm here because you're my darling brother." At the 'fed-up-with-your-shit' look on Sebastian's face, he extrapolated slightly, smiling awkwardly. "I need a place to say."  
  
The book flopped to the table in the silence, and Ross watched his brother grow angrier by the moment. He laughed again, irritating in the small kitchen, and slunk closer. "Don't fucking freak out, idiot. It'll only be for a week or two." Sebastian merely growled, and pointed at the door.  
  
"Get your carcass out of here, Ross, you're not staying here. Last time I ended up with all of the Yard on me for all the shit you got up to. No. Have tea if you want it, and then leave."  
  
Ross feigned a pained expression and sighed, "But I'm your _brother_ , Sebby…" He grinned when Sebastian gritted his teeth at the childhood nickname, "We have to look out for each other. Are you always so stressed out?"  
  
Sebastian rubbed his face, already exasperated. "I'm not stressed, I just don't want to get roped into helping you again! I look after myself and no one else. Including you. I take care of myself."  
  
"Ooh, but I don't know that you are. Look at yourself." Ross' look could have set fire to green branches, backing Sebastian against the sink as he prowled up close, eyes alight. "So tense. You need someone to look after _you_ for the night," he suggested carefully, letting his fingers come out and brush over Sebastian's neck. The man's complete lack of response spurred Ross on, and Sebastian watched, stunned, as Ross reached down and slid his palm over Sebastian's groin.  
  
It snapped him out of it, and Sebastian smacked the man's hand away. "The fuck do you think you're doing?" He snarled, and Ross only lifted a shoulder, teasing in his voice when he spoke.  
  
"Remember when we hit puberty?" Sebastian's face went completely blank, and Ross nodded thoughtfully, "When ma found us… how did she put it? _Exploring_?" He smirked, and Sebastian simply stared at him.  
  
"We didn't know what we were doing, Ross. It was bad of us."  
  
"Was it? I don't know. From what I remember, it felt good." Ross replaced his hand, and watched as Sebastian's eyes dilated ever so slightly. He slid his fingers slowly over his brother's jeans, and smirked. "Wasn't it good for you too?"  
  
Sebastian swatted his hand away again, half heartedly, and shook his head. "Cut it out." Ross pressed closer again, his own eyes darker now. He had Sebastian nearly persuaded, he could tell. Could _feel_. Time to pull out the big guns.  
  
Leaning in, an arm hooking around his brother's neck to keep him from jerking away - as if he could get far - Ross breathed against Sebastian's ear, and felt his brother try to hold back an involuntary shudder. "Brother-mine, ma isn't here to stop us anymore. I've missed you. And you need to unwind, mm?" His words were hot and heavy against Sebastian's ear, and the sniper let out a soft noise as he felt lips enveloping his earlobe, sucking on it in a delightful and perfect way.  
  
Ross grinned against Sebastian's ear, and Sebastian's remaining standards fell away. They'd always had a more intimate than generally appropriate manner between them anyways, and as Ross said, there wasn't anyone else around to watch them.   
  
Calloused fingers found the hem of Ross' shirt, and Sebastian hitched it up, sliding his hands down his brother's back, finding the familiar shape of his burn scar from when they'd been children, and after a glance, noted several new tattoos from the last time he'd seen the man.   
  
The minutes younger of the two shuddered as he felt Sebastian's hands exploring his back, and he pressed against his twin, mouth nipping sharply along his neck and up to his lips. They stared at each other for a long moment, and something shifted, and they fell into a frenzy.  
  
In the shift to Sebastian's bedroom, they both lost their shirts and pants, stopping along the way to press against the wall and rub against the other. Ross kept Sebastian glued to the wall for minutes on end, using his mouth on his brother and bringing him right up to the brink before pulling off and squeezing him hard, staving off his orgasm and making Sebastian writhe in frustration.  
  
In return, Sebastian pinned Ross to the wall by his neck, jamming a leg between both of his brother's and rubbing against him until Ross was frantic with need, choking himself on Sebastian's hand as he twisted in the sniper's grip, trying to get more than what Sebastian was giving him.  
  
Once they'd finally reached the bed, they were both wound too tight, thinking about what they were doing and desperate from the other's stint in the hallway. Sebastian shoved Ross onto the bed and climbed on top of him, but Ross simply laughed and managed to do something with his tongue nearly down Sebastian's throat that left the man flat on his back with Ross above him and his head spinning.  
  
Everything sharpened a moment later when a - where the fuck had he found the lube so fast? Had he been planning this? - warm and slick hand slid over his cock, slicking him. Ross fisted them both together and bit at Sebastian's mouth, swallowing Sebastian's gasps and groans.   
  
Sebastian didn't hold back, didn't keep his noise in like he usually did. This was a safe place, he decided, between brothers, and it was wonderful. He licked at Ross' mouth, tasting him, and pulled back to watch the small muscles in his arms as he moved, took in his brother's tattooed torso, and then up at his pleasure wracked face.   
  
It did him in, and his head arched back as white shot through his mind, leaving everything blissful as he felt himself spill onto his stomach and add to the slick between himself and his brother.  
  
Ross' hips slowed as he rubbed against Sebastian, groaning low in his throat and leaning down, biting hard over Sebastian's adam's apple and climaxing a moment later as he heard his brother cry out and tasted blood under his tongue. He ground his hips against Sebastian's slowly, shifting around in small circles as he rode out the waves, until they were both oversensitive and Sebastian's leg was twitching slightly from it.   
  
He relaxed then, letting his weight rest over Sebastian, who grunted but didn't bother shoving him off, simply resting. After a minute, he shifted, licking over the spot on Sebastian's throat where he'd drawn blood, and Sebastian sighed, a hand coming up to slide over Ross' burn scar, fingers tracing it gently.  
  
"See, now this is the part where you say it's good to see me again and let me stay for a few days." Ross finally said, matter of fact and casual.  
  
Sebastian rolled his eyes and shoved his brother off of the bed, where he hit the floor with a yelp and then a laugh.


End file.
